I’ve threatened to write a blog about Friday Nights for a long time. They are just not what they used to be. Right now, it is 19:10 on a Friday night. I am on the couch keeping one eye on the television where a “Midsomer Murders” (no I am not kidding) is doing its thing. The other eye is watching the rain pelting the windows. This will be my entertainment for tonight. I am already contemplating when I can go to bed without feeling like a total loser.
I know I tend to wax on about the past a bit, hey, maybe I am having a midlife crisis. Is this the middle of my life? Something to worry about later.
Friday used to be something to work towards. Leaving the office elated at 17:00 on the dot after a week of nine to fiving and promising myself I would have one drink on the way home, just one and then surely go and eat something. Maybe even get changed out of the office uniform that I still wore then. (stockings, skirt, heels etc) before going out. Well that almost never happened.
Friday nights were full of possibility. Having one of those “wow we understand each-other sooo well right now” conversations that seem quite vague in the harsh light of Saturday morning. Meeting the love of your life, or just for the moment. Dancing until the music stops, the lights go on and you look around you and all that is left is plastic cups and some stray people. Well, you catch my drift.
For the past years, Friday nights were different. Of course, there is still the anticipation of a few free days coming up. The empty office is always a nice foreboding for that one. But Friday nights have been a crash fest. The yes, it is weekend Wahooo, still reigns, but I would have to get up at about 06:00 and actually be present for the Kid on Saturday morning so sleep was required.
Or at least it used to be. Because… drumroll. plot-twist. From now on the Kid will be with his father on Friday night.. Which feels insane and scary sad but also freeing.
So, here I am, it is 19:00 on a Friday night and I am still on the couch. Because in all honesty, I would not know what to do. First of all my drinking is non-existent because of my ongoing struggle with Anxiety and secondly, what does a 38 year old mom do on a Friday night? Yes, ok, probably drink a whole lot. I have to go into training.
Anyway, seriously. In preparation for all this new-found freedom I went to a gig at Paradiso on Monday, which started at 18:30. Super safe. I loved it but also had some severe bouts of panic sweat, clammy hands and paralysing fear. They were short bouts though and I could breathe through them (not loudly, promise).
What did not help was the fact that it was a sit-down concert so I had nowhere to go with all my pent-up anxiety, but what did I expect at 18:30. Anyway, I survived, my friend survived. And we were both very proud of me. I ventured and gained, or some such nonsense.
Now here I find myself on Friday night tied to the couch and just wanting to go to sleep. So, I have decided that since this whole freedom thing is new to me I am allowed to take it slow. No raves for me anytime soon. But some bar, some Friday very soon, will find me on a stool. Yes, I will bring my panic sweat and my clammy hands but I will be there none the less.
Enjoy your Friday Folks!